Nor Death Delay
by Polydicta
Summary: A storm is fast approaching, and Hogwarts, the spiritual heart of Wizarding Britain must face its fury, but you can only fight necromancy with necromancy. Death, Horror, Undead.


**Nor Death Delay**

By Polydicta

A storm is fast approaching, and Hogwarts, the spiritual heart of Wizarding Britain must face its fury, but you can only fight necromancy with necromancy. Death, Horror, Undead.

A little something that defies a proper polish by myself using a theme I haven't actually seen used in HP before.

**Disclaimer: **

All fiction is derivative and fan fiction doubly so. I make no claim to own any part of any of the following, all I have done is an attempt to put together the elements in a novel fashion, using words and ideas like Lego ™ bricks.

There is no money involved – all I do is to share what I do for my own amusement.

-::::::::-

**Nor Death Delay**

"Gods no! 'Mione …!"

There was a brilliant flash of purple and the bushy haired witch fell, her eyes grey and lifeless, her body already cooling, her heart and thoughts stilled forever.

Immediately, a blue glow emanated from the wizard chained to the pillar. His long, messy, black hair now floating wildly, his green eyes glowing like twin searchlights of doom.

There was a thunderous crash and both he and the witch were gone. The death eaters were in disarray, their master furious. Dolohov and Malfoy both lay dead, their bodies dismembered.

.

A graveyard in a sleepy Wiltshire village saw a lone figure digging a grave in the frost-rimed moonlight. Dug by hand, the open throat of the Earth's maw beckoned. A stone coffin without seam or decoration was lowered into the waiting grave and a few private words were said before the grave was filled. A headstone was placed, bearing the simple few simple words:

**Hermione Jane Potter**

**1979 – 2001**

**A light in dark places when all other lights go out.**

.

"So it's true then."

The raven haired man nodded. "Yes, he's returned and is gathering all evil to him."

"What was it?"

"A ring. A simple band of gold. Albus never guessed. None of us did. The other horcruxes were weak, little more than decoys. This was his master anchor. It seems that he was more powerful than any of us could imagine. He discovered a way of stealing others' power."

"What now?"

The young man turned to face his former teacher, his friend. His eyes glistened, reflecting the sorrow of the ultimate loss.

"We fight."

"How?"

"There is a way. She discovered it, but it is a dark way. I won't taint you with it, and it will ultimately be my own destruction."

"No!"

He nodded. "There is no other way. I'm doomed anyway. She was my light, my hope, and now that is taken from me. All that keeps me here is my sacred vow. When that is fulfilled then I, too, shall be gone."

.

Two weeks later, at the dark of the moon, the grave was once more disturbed, but none witnessed the desecration.

A body, just dead was found stretched across the great stone that served as the altar of the ruined, ancient church of St Mary Martyr in the Somerset village of Mary Stump. The body was that of one Gregory Goyle, a death eater. He had been ritually killed and his heart removed, probably while still beating. His heart was never found.

A rash of similar murders were committed, all along a curved line stretching from Cornwall, through Devon and Somerset, and ultimately up into Suffolk. The St Mary's ley-line, a path of dark energies known to the druids, to the Romans and through to those still living.

The papers, including The Daily Prophet failed to report the number of graves that had been emptied, one for each death-eater ritually sacrificed at the dark of the moon.

Twelve deaths and twelve emptied graves.

.

"Mr Potter, you look dreadful."

The man nodded. His long, black hair was lank, his robes torn and dirty, his eyes … here was a man who had roller-skated through Hell.

"I have been working, that's all."

"I would guess that what you have been doing is …"

"Illegal? Yes, most certainly, but necessary. Happily, it won't be long now. Are the students ready?"

The headmistress nodded. "They are as highly trained as they ever were. The changes you began have gathered momentum. They are ready to defend the spiritual heart of Wizarding Britain."

Harry nodded. He held his hand out and she shook it.

"This may be the last time we meet in this life, Minerva. The storm approaches. He will strike soon."

She caught a glimpse of the blue tattoos that covered the wizard's left hand. They were new, just like the traceries of runes and symbols she could see on the exposed part of his neck.

.

Two days later a final ritual killing occurred. The body was found on the megalith that formed the centre of the floor of St Mary the Avenging Angel, a small church on a low mound in Oxfordshire.

.

An army approached Hogwarts. An army of death eaters, of zealots and blood-crazed youths. Lord Voldemort led his dark forces on an assault on Hogwarts.

He was pleased that the death of Potter's mudblood whore had broken Potter. Certainly, he did seem to have gone to ground. The only concern was the deaths of his inner circle of Death Eaters. He assumed that this was Potter's puny revenge, the pitiful posturings of a broken mind.

.

"I HAVE COME TO TAKE MY SEAT IN THE HEADMASTER'S OFFICE. STAND ASIDE."

There were a series of green flashes and thirteen figures appeared between Voldemort and the defenders. Thirteen faded black robes, faces cowled and wands in gloved hands.

"You may go no further, Tom. This is your end."

The thirteen threw back their hoods. There standing before the Dark Lord were thirteen grey countenances.

Harry and Hermione Potter. Tonks and Remus Lupin. Neville and Ginevra Longbottom. Ron and Luna Weasley. Colin Creevey and Hannah Abbot, Severus Snape, James and Lily Potter.

Voldemort sent a killing curse at Harry Potter. He didn't even try to avoid it. It hit him square, and was absorbed into him. He just smiled.

"It no longer works, Tom. You cannot kill that which lies already dead."

The death eaters started throwing hexes and curses into the thirteen defenders. Every spell hit its mark, and none did any damage whatsoever.

Voldemort was more surprised than anything. His death eaters were terrified, some broke and ran.

Potter and his companions simply stood and started casting hexes, using lethal force and showing no mercy.

At last there was only Voldemort. Harry walked to the demon incarnate.

"This is where it ends forever, Tom Riddle."

Harry laid his left hand on the Dark Lord's arm. The tattoos on the grey arm shone with the reflected light of a million moonlit nights. Harry raised his wand and pointed it at the ring, the final, the master horcrux.

"Heliochrysos!"

A golden glow emerged from the wand, it intensified and Voldemort's finger flashed into brief flame. Brighter and brighter the light shone.

Voldemort's ring suddenly vaporised under the intense heat, gold-plating Harry's wand and arm.

As the light faded, Voldemort seemed to be melting until he suddenly collapsed, leaving a drying pool of snake-venom, a smear of teenage blood, a severed hand and a few dry bones.

.

The army of the dead simply turned and walked into the Forbidden Forest.

"Harry?"

He turned. "It is my time now to rest, Minerva. Goodbye and fare well, until we meet on the next great adventure. You know where to find us if we're needed."

The animated corpse of Hermione Potter was waiting for him. They embraced and kissed briefly, a cold parody of what they had been before. Minerva McGonagall returned to her chambers and simply wept.

She smiled sadly as they returned to Godric's Hollow. The grave was open and two stone coffins waiting. As if by magic, they were sealed and buried with the last earthly remains of Harry and Hermione Potter.

The headstone read:

**Hermione Jane Potter**

**Beloved wife of Harry Potter**

**1979 – 2001**

**A light in dark places when all other lights go out**

and

**Harry James Potter**

**Beloved husband of Hermione Potter**

**1980 – 2001**

**To cross the river in both directions requires the brightest candle**

**.**

The foot-stone bore the following lines from an ancient lay.

**Not flood nor storm, nor war nor death delay them in their fight,  
>For they alone, of all mankind, can face this demon's might<strong>

-::::::::-

**Author's Notes:**

Heliochrysis is Greek and simply means "sun gold"  
>The purple curse used on Hermione is something new. That's all you need to know.<br>References to JRR Tolkein's Lord of The Rings – Tolkein invented the _one ring_ as a Horcrux, after all.


End file.
